


Welcome To Traffic

by paintkettle



Series: All The Colours Between Us [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action, Banter, F/M, Gen, Scents & Smells, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9573746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintkettle/pseuds/paintkettle
Summary: A routine traffic patrol suddenly escalates, and Officer Judy Hopps finds her professional tenacity almost gets the better of her.Previously part of theAll The Colours Between Uspart-work.





	1. Active Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You good, Wilde?”_
> 
> _“Ride of my life, Carrots.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was originally published in the part-work _All The Colours Between Us_ , which is now a series of the same name.
> 
> I’ve also taken this opportunity to tidy up some of the writing, and update the formatting a little.

Officer Nicholas Wilde clung to the safety handle fixed above his door of the Prowler with both his paws, knuckles whitening, eyes pinned wide, and his head tucked deep into his shoulders. 

He could feel the seatbelt beginning to react to the vehicles acceleration, pulling taut over his chest and squeezing him about his waist. Spilt coffee was working warmly down his leg and onto the seat, the fallen cup rolling away into the footwell below.

The emergency beacons on the Prowler roof span red to blue to red, the siren wailing steadily. Nick winced at the sound, flattening his ears to try and lessen the rise and fall and the aching  _throb_  that came with it.

Her right paw up high on the steering wheel, Officer Judith Hopps relaxed up on the brake, only to stamp her footpaw down  _hard_  on the Prowler’s accelerator. The kick-down made the vehicle shudder, the engine racing as the gearbox de-clutched and then sharply re-engaged to surge forward.

Her paw pulled down to a quarter lock, the tuned power-steering scaling up the rabbit’s inputs to match the large vehicle’s weight. The drive wheels bit into the road as the Prowler rolled a little, tucking, hunkering low on the corner. 

Straightening the next bend, she could see their fleeing quarry ahead, exhaust blowing fuel and smoke, the rear-end lit up by the Prowler’s alternating high-beams as they cut through dirt and debris. Grit tick-tick-ticked across the Prowler’s bodywork.

“You good, Wilde?”

“Ride of my life, Carrots.”

“Well,  _call it in_ , Slick.”

“Oh.  _Oh_ …” 

Nick’s eyes darted up at his paw, then down, looking to where he’d land it as he let go of the safety handle - to his shoulder, to the jacket radio clipped there. It squawked as he gripped the talkback and pulled it close to his mouth.

“Hotel Whiskey Five Six to Dispatch. Uh… time is oh-one-thirty-two, We’ve got a vehicle with an active ANPR marker. Failed to stop. Driver only, no passengers.”

He barked the fleeing vehicle’s registration mark and, clearing the ANPR screen, glanced at the speed reading on the onboard computer terminal. For a beat-up little runaround on these city roads, it was going at an impressive speed.

“Sixty, six zero, open road towards Aloe - low risk,” he added.

The dark city, speckled with street lights that glittered like blurred stars flashed past as Judy accelerated, pushing the Prowler on, on, closing the gap as much as she safely could, to keep the running vehicle in sight.

“ _Dispatch to Hotel Whiskey Five Six, continuation wth pursuit authorised — two units converging on your position._ ”

Nick glanced to Judy. Her eyebrows were low, her face scrunched in concentration and without looking away from the road, she gave him her curt answer.

“I’ve got this.”

“Uh, hold on assist, Dispatch,” Nick advised, uncertainly. His heart was racing as the Prowler rocked from side to side.

 _ThumpThump_.

 _ThumpThump_.

His free paw was flat to his chest, as if trying to feel for the beating, knocking against his insides.

_ThumpThump._

Then, he caught the rise and fall of the road surface, safety markings and chevrons blazing bright in the headlights.

_Speed bumps._

He scoffed and shook his head, his eyes flicking up instinctively before he even realised as they’d caught movement ahead.

The running car had swung out suddenly. Lights. Red lights.  _Brake lights_. Judy’s left paw was up this time, anticipating the turn.

With a screech of sliding rubber, the fleeing vehicle shifted, bolting sharply into a side road. Nick let out a yelp as Judy quickly pulled the steering down to pendulum through the turn.

“Slick.  _Commentary_ ,” she reminded him.

“Uh, left, left into residential…” He stopped, mouth slack.

“It’s Goji Avenue,” Judy pointed out, hoping to jog Nick’s memory and his commentary. She didn’t want to have to concentrate on that as well as the pursuit.

“Guh… Goji Avenue. Clear road. No pedestrians — luh… low risk,” Nick stammered.

The streets suddenly began to narrow, to turn and buck and weave. Judy kicked down again as the car ahead started to slow. The driver began to hesitate as they closed in on the intersection just ahead. A single suspended red light was glowing and there was traffic flowing  _across_  the road. 

The car suddenly surged and headed straight at the intersection, rocking a little, building into a weave, picking a position, a moment. 

“Oh,  _don’t._ ” she breathed. 

“Red light.  _Red_  light.  _Red light_!” Nick groaned through his gritted teeth.

Judy pressed with a flattened paw upon the centre of the steering wheel, switching the sirens to a rapid and higher pitched  _whoo-whoop_. She was already looking to the left, the right, down the road and far past the light.

“I see it,” she said, quietly, the situation pulling all her attention, all her focus.

Judy slowed the Prowler, just enough to watch for gaps as the car ahead forged across through the junction. Judy could hear the brake reactions and the blare of horns from the opposing traffic. 

Oh,  _crackers_ , this was going to be tricky, she thought.

Nick’s nostrils twitched and flared. The Prowler cabin reeked of his own fear now, but it was that other scent,  _her_  scent, that was starting to push his eyes wider. He shook his head briefly, trying to shake the bright, keen scent away.

He pressed back into his seat, to distance himself from the unfolding scene ahead, footpaws shifting helplessly in the footwell, working pedals that weren’t there. Horns began to blare on both sides of the Prowler as Judy sent it on, into the traffic. 

A lurch, a weave, a breath in, then,  _hard_ acceleration again and somehow,  _somehow_ Judy had got them clear, kept them safe.

“Fu-luff! We’ve got to call for support, a box, anything! — they’re not  _stopping_!” Were it not for the seatbelt holding him fast, Nick would have likely climbed out of the seat and would be pinned to the roof interior by his claws.

The two vehicles were scrambling down the street now. It began to widen as it merged with other routes.

“We can’t. Not here. Residential.  _Protocol_ ,” Judy pointed out.

“Hopps, this is  _Zootropolis_! It’s pretty much  _all_ residential!” Nick could see Judy’s jaw working, brow furrowed. She wanted to catch this car, needed to catch this car,  _had_  to catch this car.

Judy pressed on, passing other vehicles that, thankfully, were pulled aside and deferring to let them pass. The Prowler clambered and wove through the gaps straddling the size-segregated highway lanes.

“Judy.”

If she could just get closer - she wasn’t authorised for an interception, but she could just get ahead, get them to de-camp, get them on footpaws, she’d be faster, faster and she’d  _catch_  them before — 

Horror caught Judy’s breath as the car ahead swerved, rear tyres streaking the road ahead. The driver was getting desperate. She was too close. The Prowler’s own rear drifted wide now, lifting up on it’s suspension. She countered, trying to stop the drift from turning into a full-blown roll.

“ _Judy_. We have to stop this,” Nick was pleading now. 

Her taut face opened back up in shock. Recovering the turn, she flicked eyes to the centre mirror. Blue-red emergency beacons were flashing behind, hanging back, waiting for the lead car — her car — to call on them. 

For a moment, she gaped, caught in the cold glare of a decision. Brow furrowing again, she pinched her lips, then:

“Dispatch, Dispatch, this is Hotel Whiskey Five Six. ATS disobeyed. Fifty, five-zero on Fern, onto interchange towards Rainforest. Runner now at risk. Requesting assist.”

She was calm as she cried out the commentary into her radio, but her one-pawed grip the steering wheel was noticeably tighter than before, her shoulders suddenly taut and scent suddenly dulled. 

“ _Foxtrot Delta Nine Seven, Tango Mike Three Three, Hotel Whiskey Five Six, all authorised to proceed_ ,” came the order over the open radio.

With practiced efficiency, the three Prowlers began to accelerate and manoeuvre into a close box formation. The whole thing was over with a flick of the steering wheel and the screeching of rubber. The box was closed.

The next thing Judy was aware of was being sat bolt upright in her seat, ears erect and twitching, eyes flitting. 

There was shouting outside, far away, she thought, yet the cars and Officers were all right there, just ahead. 

She slipped the Prowler into neutral and ratcheted up the handbrake. All stop.

She listening intently to the gentle tick-tick of the emergency beacons above her as her colleagues swarmed around the boxed car, tasers drawn and red dots shining. She hadn’t even noticed she was holding her breath or that Nick had jumped from the Prowler, sliding across the bonnet to assist with the arrest.

The driver, A goat, was abruptly wrenched from their seat, through the open window of their blocked door, sprawled and cuffed over the little runaround’s hot bonnet.

Her heart thumped and suddenly her chest heaved with a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve chosen to use the European name Zootropolis throughout this series.
> 
> Terminology:
> 
> ANPR is an acronym for Automatic Number Plate Recognition.  
> ATS is an acronym for Automatic Traffic Signal.  
> Speeds are in miles per hour.


	2. A Red Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Judy glared at Nick._
> 
> _He’d always heard there was nothing more dangerous than a cornered animal, but that glare alone was enough to edge Judy up the leaderboard._
> 
> Officers Hopps and Wilde discuss risk management.

_**Pursuit Report Car** : HW56, Precinct One_

_**Incident** : 14/A_

_**Filed by** : Officer Wilde, N P, (Observer)_

_**Time of report** : 04:25_

Nick took in a breath, filling his chest as he looked at the blank report template on the computer screen in front of him.

He poised his paws above the keyboard, and began.

_Officer Hopps, J L, (Driver) and I were on routine traffic patrol around the Upper District, when at 01:32, the vehicle indicated (photo and registration mark attached) set off the ANPR, so Officer Hopps attempted a routine stop._

_The subject vehicle proceeded to make off at speed, which considering it was one of those underpowered about-town runabouts, was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself._

The desk shuddered a little as he typed, hitting each key on the board one by one with single, pointed claws.

_As Observer, I calmly ran accurate commentary as we pursued, during which a hot beverage was displaced, contributing to the damage of one pair standard issue uniform trousers (expenses reciept attached)._

_When it was pretty clear the vehicle might cause a difficult situation to develop, Officer Hopps requested assistance to carry out a tactical stop._

_Once safely stopped, I bravely leap to assist with the arrest, while Officer Hopps remained with the Prowler. Officer Hopps’ report may indicate that I slid across the bonnet of the Prowler in a manner similar to either Snarlsky or Hutch, but I can’t recall to that at the time writing._

_The arrest was then made with the minimum of disturbance as Officer McHorn carefully placed the offender on the bonnet of their vehicle in order to apply restraint._

Nick squinted as he leant in a little, trying to focus on the words he’d written.

He was still getting used to desk work, and whilst excellent night vision was a valuable asset in the field, it was somewhat less useful whilst sat grimacing at a computer screen. The beginnings of a headache was forming, just behind his temples.

Outside, he could just smoothly land a pair of sunglasses on his snout to filter out the brightest of daylight, but back-of-house it was neither practical nor effective. Besides, everyone had recently figured out he was just putting them on indoors in order to doze through day-shift meetings.

He rubbed the bridge of his snout and peered at the screen over his pinched claws one last time. With a smile and a nod, he clacked his claws smartly on the keyboard, saving the report.

_Thump thumpthump thumpthumpth_

Nick glanced up from the pursuit report, his suddenly upright ears pivoting towards the little drumming noise at his side. He’d heard it enough times now to know what it meant, and closed his eyes for a moment, before defensively putting on a smile to turn, hitching his arm up over the back of his task chair.

“Officer Hopps,” he nodded.

Nick’s smile did nothing to defuse the the angry rabbit standing with arms folded tight, her footpaw  _pounding_  on the carpet-tiled floor. She looked  _particularly_  furious. He held his own paws up, pads out.

“ _Listen_ , Carrots,” Nick began.

Judy raised a paw pointedly at the fox. Her lips pinched for a moment as she did so.

“You were in  _no position_  to give me orders!” she barked. “I outrank you, remember? I could have you written up for insubordination.”

“Whu… outrank me by ten months, maybe,” he spluttered in return. “Besides… orders? I was giving you options. I’m your partner, that’s what I’m supposed to do, no?”

“If you hadn’t been so busy  _hiding_  behind your paws,  _Wilde_ , you’d have seen  _I_  was  _managing_ the risks!” Judy fumed.

The fox pursed his own lips and shook his head. 

“Carrots. We had a chance to call for an assist and, who knows, get one of those things—” He swirled his paw round and round, trying to find the word. “— _Stingers_  are they called? Well, we could have got one of those dropped ahead to stop that car, I don’t know,” he shrugged, “long before they got into controlled traffic or even that residential area.  _That_  would have been managing the risks.”

Judy glared at Nick. He’d always heard there was nothing more dangerous than a cornered animal, but that  _glare_  was enough to edge Judy up the leaderboard. Wisely, he started to back up.

“Look, it’s  _fine_ ,” he began. “It worked out. You drove to your usual high standard under difficult circumstances, then called for an assist.  _No big deal_. The driver was arrested and got their car impounded. Job done.”

“And, as an important bonus to the whole thing, we managed not. To. Crash.” he added, emphasising each word with a tap of a claw against the desk.

“It’s all in my report, right here,” he said proudly, tilting his head and thrusting his paws towards the paperwork. Judy could see he’d left the caps-lock on for the first four paragraphs. Nick rested his paws on his knees.

“But, you know, it was riskier than it should have been. The look you had in your eyes, and your  _scent_ , well, ” the fox’s green eyes suddenly widened. “ _That_  was the red mist you had there, Carrots.”

Judy grumbled quietly. It wasn’t the first time she’d been pulled up on being hot-headed and impulsive by Officers she was working with, but it was certainly the first time Nick, ordinarily the very embodiment of lackadaisy, had been so fervent about it. 

It was  _professional tenacity_ , as she preferred to call it. It was how Judy approached  _all_  her work, and without it, she wouldn’t be serving in the ZPD, let alone Precinct One.

But, Nick was right, she’d been focussing so hard on an objective that she could have missed critical details and evolving risks. The near-roll of the Prowler earlier that night was evidence of that.

 _Noble Risk Taking_  was the prescribed term for it in the all the handbooks Judy had ever studied.  _Everyone else_  in Traffic just called it red mist. 

She groaned inwardly.

“Nick, I was  _not_  taking any risks I couldn’t manage. I did not experience ‘red mist’.” Her small paws made sarcastic little air-quotes as she rolled her eyes and drawled the words, although she was starting to doubt her own words now.

“If it’d been Fangmeyer or Grizzoli, I’d have understood,“ Nick began.

 _Oh, here we go._  Judy thought.  _Rabbit drivers_. Her eyes rolled.

“Is this about my driving now? What do you think  _this_  is, Wilde?” Judy jabbed a claw at the little badge on her lapel — a tiny silver steering wheel set into a shield. “I had to get a  _Class One_ test pass before they’d let me drive  _anything_ bigger than that… that  _jokemobile_  they gave me on the my first day.”

“No, look,” Nick sighed, his paws up again and tail tucked under his seat, trying to calm the irate rabbit. “It’s called red mist for a reason, you know.”

Judy’s eyelid fluttered erratically as she fought down her frustration. A blink to compose herself, and she was smiling thinly right back at the fox.

“Go on,” she said slowly.

Nick leaned in, his mouth open as if about to speak, then suddenly closing, lips pinched together.

“Wait.” A frown crossed his brow and a squint narrowed his eyes as they flicked up and down from eartips to footpaws. Judy felt her face grow hot. A little smile flickered across his lips.

“They didn’t tell you why it’s called that,  _did they?_  At the Academy, I mean.  _Ha!_ ” He straightened up, folding his arms. “Oh, that is priceless,” he grinned.

Judy gave a little irritated shrug with her paws, shoulders tucking up.

“You know it’s a predator thing, right?” asked Nick. “You chase the thing, you catch the thing. You’re an Officer, this is Traffic, I get it. But, when was the last time a rabbit  _hunted_ something?”

In the silence that followed, Nick could have sworn he could have heard the penny roll slowly, slowly to the edge.

And then.

Drop.

Her paws darted to her mouth, breath drawn sharply as she realised what her partner had suggested. Her ears were flat to the back of her head and she hunched over a little — whether that was shock or embarrassment, Nick couldn’t be quite sure.

“Sweet  _peas_ , Nick! Really?”

Nick nodded, and the beginnings of his smile spreading out to a broad, toothy grin. Relaxing back into his chair a little, He pointed a claw at her.

“Officer Hopps, you continue to surprise me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Class One pass featured here is based in part on very advanced levels of driver training. 
> 
> Given how hard a rabbit would have to work at driving the larger ZPD vehicles, Judy would likely be required to train to a significantly higher level than most, and of course, she'd pass with flying colours.


	3. Animal House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh, why? I mean, I’m a vegetarian, Nick. Vegetarian. I don’t exactly have to stalk salad leaves, or need to lie in wait for beans to sprout, do I?”_

Rabbits didn’t hunt. 

Graze, maybe —  _nibble_ , certainly, and — as she’d learnt to her chagrin — if  _Midnicampum Holicithias_  were involved, bite.

But  _hunt?_  

She’d not even known it was in the rabbit vocabulary until she’d heard it during a school trip to the little history museum in Deerbrooke County all those years ago, and even then, she’d never heard rabbits speak about it. Rabbits didn’t hunt.

Did they?

She paced and fretted.

“Ohhh,  _why?_ I mean, I’m a vegetarian, Nick.  _Vegetarian_. I don’t exactly have to  _stalk_  salad leaves, or need to lie in wait for beans to sprout, do I?” She raised a fretful paw to her mouth once more. Nick huffed as he slunk down from his seat.

“Hey. Look,” he began. “This little…  _wobble_ ,” he shrugged, “really isn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. In fact, Carrots, it’s no big deal at all.”

He cast his paw towards the blind-shuttered window. 

“I mean, this is  _Zootropolis_ , after all. So, naturally, whatever is going on in any and everyone’s mind or, body for that matter— “ A pause. He sniffed, nostrils twitching. Judy’s eyes narrowed, fractionally. “ —As they pack in to this place  _every day_  is going to rub off on everyone else at some point, and, well, you know,” he shrugged, crossing to the water cooler across from his desk, leaving Judy to try and fill in the blank.

The cooler gurgled as knocked against it. He flipped up the dispenser lid looking for cups and tutted when he saw there were none to had.

“Now, I don’t know what kind of high-jinks you got up to in Bunny Burrow,” —  _ugh_ , that  _grin_ again, thought Judy — “but, you’ve been living and working around a few predators in this fair city. And you’re partnered with one.”

“Professionally, that is,” he added, quickly.

“Oh, so by that reasoning, I’m rubbing off on  _you_ , too, am I?” Judy asked.

She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth, instantly regretting using those particular words. There was something  _unwholesome_  about them, and if Nick didn’t pick up on them now, they would inevitable get jotted down and stored away in Nick’s  _Little Book of Taunts_  for later embarrassment.

His eyebrow ticked up, but for once, he didn’t bite.

“That appeared to have happened  _quite_  a while ago.” He tapped at the police badge on his chest with a claw and began to edge away. 

He’d almost made it when Judy suddenly stiffened.

“Nick, wait.”

Nick sighed.

“What  _scent?_ ” she asked, nose wrinkling. “In the Prowler cabin?”

Nick paused, his green eyes deepening as a little crease flickered on his brow. Judy leant in. “You said, earlier, there was a  _scent_  in the cabin. All  _I_  could smell was  _you_.” Judy held the fox’s gaze as she waited for an answer.

“Oh. My new cologne.” Nick fingered the collar of his uniform and straightened his tie a little. “It’s Fauve,  _for Fox_. Too strong?”

“Hm-hmmm,” Judy hummed smartly. “No. You must have been terrified. It was not good.” She wrinkled her nose a little at the memory of it.

“Hm.” Nick looked deep in thought.

“Nick. I de-musked the Prowler before we took it out on duty. So it was only you. And me.” Judy wasn’t quite as sensitive to the scents of others as Nick so often seemed to be. Coming to the city had been quite an assault on her senses at first, and growing up around two-hundred-plus rabbits meant that while she was attuned to the ebb and flow of  _other rabbits_ , she was still having learning to interpret other mammal scents, and importantly, what they communicated  _beyond_  the things that mammals said and did.

It had, over the past months, become another one of Judy’s ‘projects’ and that Nick would even bring up  _hers_  in the first place had pulled a thread that she couldn’t help but tug on.

“Was it something to do with this ‘red mist’?” Her eyes narrowed further and Nick pursed his lips to reply.

“Well. Am I a biologist? No. No, I am not,” he said, turning.

 _Oh, Wilde, you are not getting out of this_  that  _easily._  Judy opened her mouth to tell him as much, when a voice wafted up from behind the partition behind them.

“Excitement.” 

Both fox and rabbit turned slowly, their ears alert and eyes wide. “Definitely excitement,” confirmed the voice.

“ _Wolford!_ This is a  _private_  conversation,” Judy sighed, her voice quavering a little.

“Private?  _Really_.” Wolford rose to peer over his desk partition, pointing a claw at his quivering ears, eyes sharp. “Wolves have ears, you know,” he said dryly.

Judy let out a little nervous laugh, her own ears rising in response. Wolford held the fox and rabbit with his gaze. The rabbit looked far more ruffled than the fox, Wolford thought, having being caught out by a third party to their little  _discussion_. 

“Hm,” the wolf’s dark eyes softened a little.

“ _I thought you should know_ , that car you helped stop this morning was  _packed_  with narcotics scent-markers. Nip, Howler, the  _works_. It’s in Forensics for evidential right now, but we think it’ll stick,” Wolford smiled, leaning further forward across the partition. “There were some electronics stowed away, and so that’s got the tech-team interested too. Sound equipment, apparently. Either way, one less pool-car for the criminals and a little more paper trail for us. Good work.”

“Why,  _thank you_ , Officer Wolford,” Judy sighed, smiling. “At least  _someone_  here appreciates my driving skills.” 

She shot a glance at Nick, tapping at her little Class One Driver lapel badge. The fox smacked his lips as his eyes rolled.

“So. Hopps. Red mist,” Wolford said, tapping his own claw on the metal trim of the partition.

“Ohh-ho-ho.  _App-arently_  so.” Judy replied, shifting uneasily from footpaw to footpaw again. The wolf blinked and nodded thoughtfully. The corner of his mouth rose a little.

“Good for you, Hopps. Welcome to Traffic,” he nodded. “Used to happen to me  _all_  the time. First time, I howled  _so loud_  we almost didn’t need the siren. The team didn’t let that go for weeks.”

Wolford held his paws up, propped on the partition by his elbows. 

“ _Hey, the sirens broken_ , they’d say.  _Stick Wolford on the roof!_ ” Wolford’s gaze became distant. “One day they even did.”

“This place is such an animal house,” mused Nick, sympathetically.

Wolford quietly nodded. His nostrils gave a barely noticeable quiver and he leaned forward a little to catch Judy’s eye once more.

“Of course, if it’s  _really_  bothering you, Hopps,” he smiled knowingly, “just speak to Mammal Resources. Tell them I sent you.”

He dropped his paws and set them down to grip the edge of the partition, before sinking back down to his own paperwork.

For a moment, Judy chewed over what Wolford had said, although,  _more_  what he hadn’t said.

Nick was halfway across the room, drifting away with his practiced, measured slink. “Hey, Carrots,” he called. His voice was just loud enough to carry as he swung open the door to the corridor.

“Nick.”

“ _Carrots_ , I’m just heading up to Mammal Resources. You want me to pick up some of those  _self-help_  leaflets for you? Don’t worry - I’ll catch you at the end of shift, I can give them you then.”

“Nick,  _no_ ,” she hissed. Her face dropped as Delgato and McHorn swaggered past the open door, attention first on the overly-loud fox in front of them, then, with thin pitying smiles, to her. She twisted her footpaw in embarrassment.

“We’ll go grab breakfast, yeah? Cup of tea, make you feel better?” the fox enquired with a wink.

“ _Nick_.”

He shook a paw in a drinking motion as he rounded the open doorway and slipped from sight. The door return pushed back closed with a quiet click.

_Ugh. That. Fox._

She resisted the urge to drum her footpaw again. She  _resisted_  the urge to follow him, and  _then_  the urge to follow him  _and_  shout at him. 

Judy shook her head a final time, running a paw the length of her ears behind her. Resigned now, she returned to her own desk, a little grey bundle of taut irritation. With a grunt, she leapt up to take her seat. 

She settled, wiggling a little into the chair to get as comfortable as she could given the circumstances. A tap-tap of quick claws and Judy had pulled up her own pursuit report on her screen, still to be completed.


End file.
